Horrors.There is no other wordFor the things I have seen,And sat helplessly by—Useless. My own son, ripped from my armsBy a force I could not
Tag: Christian poetry
VI. The Deaf Man (7:31-37)
I cannot tellWhat these gestures mean.Why do you all waveYour hands at me? I can only guess atThe words on your lipsAnd can only makeVain attemptsTo
V. The Paralytic (2:1-12)
People just keep goingAround, across, Any way they can.Directionless,They do not notice the manWho motionless,Waits. They step over me, Their limbs stretching usefullyEven as they
IV. The Leper (1:40-45)
Unclean,I hide myself.Lest I am seenAnd sent away,Purged from the cityWhile dogs and rats are allowedTo stay and hide in its alleys, Infect its crevices.
III. Jairus’ Daughter (5:35-43)
As so often happens, life took priority over poetry. Indeed, I fear this is one of the reasons I am not destined to be the
I. The Man with the Withered Hand (Mark 3:1-6)
My bones ache with hunger.My eyes strain from seeking.But seeking what? Waiting for what?For nothing,For who would help me today?This is the sad irony of
